The Night Beat

“No way.”
    “I drive well.”
    “You drive recklessly.”
    “Do not.” Well, not always.
    Jack opened the passenger door and waited for me to get in. He wasn’t normally this gentlemanly and I had to figure it wasn’t because we were now an official couple -- he just didn’t want me thinking I had a shot at the steering wheel. I gave him a dirty look as I seated myself.
    He grinned, closed the door, and got in on the driver’s side. “I’m relieved our working relationship isn’t going to change now that we’re a couple,” he said with a laugh. “Where to?”
    As Night Beat detectives, we didn’t have to check in at headquarters if we were in the middle of a case. The Chief would contact us if he needed to, but if we were following something, we had a lot of autonomy.
    I activated my wrist-com and decided to throw the Count a bone. “This is W-W-One-Eight-One-Niner.”
    “Agent Wolfe, how kind of you to follow procedures. I trust the daylight hours were good to you?”
    “Fantastic. What’s our status?”
    “Black Angel One has changed shifts with Vs-Seventeen-Seventy-Five and -Six.”
    “What did Black Angel One have to say?”
    “They shared that their quarry did nothing suspicious, but since they were following orders, they didn’t engage.”
    “Fair enough. What else?”
    The Count sighed. “A-Fifteen-Forty-Six has conferred and briefed Z-Nineteen-Thirty-Seven and L-Eighteen-Forty-Nine, and they are with V-Nineteen-Sixty.”
    “Martin’s staying active on the team?” This didn’t bode well.
    The Count sighed. “And here, I thought we were following procedure.”
    “Fine, fine, carry on. Who else is with V-One-Nine-Six-Zero?” The Count got to use the shorter number codes, we agents didn’t. I was sure it was because the Count thought the whole numbering thing was ridiculous in the first place, but so far had never gotten him to admit it.
    “Also with the group are L-Seven-Ten and HH and DC Sixteen-Oh-Six.”
    “No one else?”
    “Should there be?”
    “I don’t know. I lost count a while back.”
    “That remains your problem, not mine, Agent Wolfe.”
    “And you wonder why I hate the call letters.” I gave up on the formality. “What about the doppelgängers? Anyone find any or all of them during the day and eliminate our problem?”
    “If it were that easy, Agent Wolfe, why would we need you on the case?”
    “Fine, where’re Ken and the others actually at, the cemetery?”
    “If you already knew, why did you ask?” The Count disconnected. Sometimes he could be a royal pain in the tail.
    Jack cleared his throat as he headed us on the fastest path to National Cemetery. “So, first question. Your agent codename -- does that stand for werewolf and the year you, ah, undied?”
    “Yes.” I was glad we’d done the roll in the sheets thing a couple more times after breakfast. It muted my desire to do the roll and whine thing every time he said something intelligent or did something manly. I hoped it would last through the night.
    “So, by that code, and knowing what Maurice said, he’s either V-Seventeen-Seventy-Five or -Six, right?”
    “Right. He’s Seventeen-Seventy-Six, Amanda’s Seventy-Five.”
    “L is lich, Z is zombie, and HH and DC are, what, hellhound and daemon cat?”
    “Yep.”
    He was quiet for a few long moments. “Wow. Monty is old.”
    “Old, experienced, cagey.”
    “I thought he ran his own thing, was dotted line to Necropolis Enforcement.”
    “Yes, but he still has a call codename.”
    “Rover doesn’t?”
    “Rover’s assumed to be with Monty unless otherwise stated. Most white worms are within Dirt Corps. Monty has them assigned whatever codes he wants, I’d assume. Doesn’t matter.”
    “Because Dirt Corps isn’t as good as Necropolis Enforcement?”
    “No. They do their best. And they come through when you really need them.” Why I felt the need to defend Dirt Corps, I couldn’t say.
    Jack smiled. “I’m not dissing them, Vic. It’s just obvious they’re not the elite.”
    “True. But Rover doesn’t have a call code and it doesn’t matter because most white worms aren’t going to see a lot of active duty. Monty’s been training Rover for over a thousand years. He’s like Kato.” Prosaic City’s top police dog. Retired now, but still held as the K-9 standard against whom all others would never measure up. “But most white worms are pets.”
    Jack mercifully didn’t make a joke. “I guess when you’re an